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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28396278">champagne problems</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/elliefvckingwilliams/pseuds/elliefvckingwilliams'>elliefvckingwilliams</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Last of Us (Video Games)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe, F/F, Friends to Lovers, Happy Ending, IT'S LOOSELY BASED, Not too much angst?, Slow Burn, based off of a taylor swift song, but it's not as sad as that i promise, eventually, i stole her title :), if things are slow don't forget that Ellie and Dina end up together, its quite an old fashioned setting, they say words like 'quite' and 'rather' a lot</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 15:35:40</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>14,325</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28396278</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/elliefvckingwilliams/pseuds/elliefvckingwilliams</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Of all the times she could’ve lost her words, now has to be the time. Standing awkwardly, with Ellie Williams’ charming smile directed full force at her, with Jesse beside her looking into his lap indignantly, with the restaurant host a few feet away. </p><p>~ Ellie in old fashioned dress shirts and Dina in pretty dresses and winter-cloaks, can you tell this is mostly self indulgent?~</p><p>[updates every few days, most of it is already written]</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Cat/Ellie (The Last of Us), Dina/Ellie (The Last of Us), Dina/Jesse (The Last of Us)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>59</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>86</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. one</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>alright, so i've been listening to evermore (the album) none stop and this is what it's done to me. i hope you enjoy it :) </p><p>~title is from Taylor Swift's song, champagne problems~</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>His watch glints gold as she takes his hand in hers. </p><p> </p><p>Around them, glasses chink and spill champagne as the crowd toasts to another midnight passed, and she winces through her alcohol-haze at the resounding cheer. She leans into him slightly, in the way she knows flusters him. His arm finds her waist. </p><p> </p><p>“Tired?” He speaks quietly. Dina nods into the shoulder of his gold-embossed jacket and he laughs. She feels it rumble through his chest. </p><p> </p><p>“I told you not to dance all that. It’s exhausted you.” Jesse’s voice is clipped with disapproval. He’d been adamant that they shouldn’t dance, shouldn’t party, that they should stay for the pleasantries and then disappear into the crowd. He’d suggested a peaceful stroll, through the gardens that lay behind the venue. </p><p> </p><p>“I’m tired of this dress. It weighs too much.” </p><p> </p><p>The chiffon is beautiful, that's undeniable. Expensive, too. Jesse had picked it, and of course, he had paid no thought to it’s almost unbearable weight. He frowns. “I was under the impression you liked the dress.” </p><p> </p><p>“I’d like it off, thank you very much.” He kisses her cheek. She resists the urge to smile. </p><p> </p><p>He leads her towards the door, and the crowd slips off their smooth edges easily, not posing any obstruction as Jesse politely asks a guard to fetch her coat. The chandelier in the entrance hall tinkles as they leave; the wind pushing at the glass. </p><p> </p><p>Silence settles nicely in the car ride home, it blankets them and Dina doesn’t fight it and neither does Jesse. He holds her hand in the darkness of the backseat, a bold move for him. She looks to him curiously. </p><p> </p><p>“Am I not allowed to hold your hand?” He’s teasing her, his voice low. He doesn’t want the driver to hear. </p><p> </p><p>“You are,” She grins, “though you never do. Special occasion?” </p><p> </p><p>Jesse glances to their hands, then back to her face. The nighttime lowlight barely illuminates his face, just the line of his cheekbones, the tips of his eyelashes. He smiles. “Just you.”</p><p> </p><p>She replays it in her head all the way home, once for each step up the stairs to the townhouse, once for each stride towards the bedroom. Her face must show it, because Darcy’s face is knowing as she helps Dina out of the dress. The maid’s eyes twinkle. </p><p> </p><p>“Looks like you enjoyed yourself.” </p><p> </p><p>Dina nods, suddenly embarrassed. She hates the flush of her cheeks, and the quickening of her heartbeat. He’s just a man, for Christ’s sake. Nothing to be <em>embarrassed </em>over. </p><p> </p><p>But she is, and she can’t help it when she turns to Darcy excitedly, ready to blurt out every detail. Darcy’s just a bit younger than her, so Dina feels no shame when she drags her by the hand out of the closet and down the hall, rushing past Jesse as she pulls Darcy into the drawing room and closes the door behind them. </p><p> </p><p>Their laughs mingle as Jesse calls out to them, “You’re both insane!” </p><p> </p><p>Dina shakes her head, still laughing, all traces of tiredness gone. Darcy looks amused. “What’s all this about then?” </p><p> </p><p>“Darcy, I think I want a wedding.” </p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Snowflakes float on the wind, some of them melting on the heat of her cheeks. Her arm stays tucked through the loop of Jesse's, their steps almost in sync on the cobbled road.</p><p> </p><p>They've been shopping all morning, an unusual feat for a Monday. The weekend after the party had faded into a comforting pattern of sleep, coffee, and daydreaming. </p><p> </p><p>Jesse had suggested he skip work today; he'd said that being a councilman hardly constitutes much work. Just endless meetings and lots of signatures on half-read documents. </p><p> </p><p>A servant trails behind them, bags of dresses and jackets and shoes tucked under his arms. Dina makes a note to tip him generously once they're home, though she suspects Jesse might have already paid him extra to accompany them. </p><p> </p><p>Jesse tilts his head towards her, his flat cap falling to the side a little. The wind lifts a few strands of his hair, creating black tufts that stick out slightly. “We’ll stop for a drink somewhere,” He says, and she nods towards a man selling hot cocoa from a cart. </p><p> </p><p>“Or, you could get me a cup of cocoa and I could have a quick look at those scarves…” Dina’s eyes stray to a shop window a little ways down the street, sort of entranced by the glowing string lights that have been strung up above the door. Jesse sighs, “Don’t be long.” </p><p> </p><p>She all but races down the street, completely unladylike and without any regard for the poor servant— she ought to remember his name — that she leaves to chase after her. Shopping is one of her favourite things, and Jesse rarely comes with her, so something about this trip excites her more. </p><p> </p><p>And, she hadn’t mentioned it to Jesse of course, but it’s not the scarves she wanted to look at. It’s the colours she adores, the pale sage and the subtle brown that feel perfect for their wedding. Hypothetical wedding, she reminds herself. </p><p> </p><p>She steps over the threshold and into the shop, shaking off snow from her feet and loosening the top button of her coat. It’s small, but warm, and somewhere Dina suspects a fire is burning in the hearth, she hears the telltale crackle of it. A few people linger about, most notably a woman talking very loudly with who Dina assumes to be the shopkeeper. </p><p> </p><p>“—Candles? Are you quite sure that the perfect gift is… candles?” The woman sounds very doubtful. Dina moves further into the shop, admiring intricately woven baskets that she suspects would make quite nice centrepieces for tables. </p><p> </p><p>“Yes, miss. I’m sure she’d love a candle, they’re a rather sweet present, in my opinion.” </p><p> </p><p>“Right, well. What candles then? They all smell different.” </p><p> </p><p>Good lord, this woman sounds terribly lost. Dina stifles a small chuckle, and throws another glance to where she’s standing, bundled in a smart overcoat, brown hair falling out of its clasp. </p><p> </p><p>“Miss, I can’t help you too much with that. Surely you’re the best person to know what she’d like a candle to smell like?” The shopkeeper sounds tired, his voice resigned. The woman nods and thanks the man, turning to where Dina supposes the candles are. She hopes she finds what she’s looking for. </p><p> </p><p>The shop man finds his way over to Dina, smiling kindly. He’s older, with greying hair and reddish cheeks and smile-wrinkles. “Can I help you with something, miss?” </p><p> </p><p>She gestures to the scarves. “I just want a brown and one of the green ones, please. They’re terribly pretty colours.” </p><p> </p><p>He picks her requested scarves up, and she follows him to the counter. She asks him to wrap them up well, though she knows there’s nothing suspicious about buying scarves. She’s being dramatic. Still, when she leaves to meet Jesse outside, she says she bought a scarf and that’s it. She doesn’t mention the colours, or the meaning behind those colours, but she thinks about it for the rest of the shopping trip. </p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Jesse must have left without waking her, because when her eyes open the sun is well up and his side of the bed is cold. </p><p> </p><p>She insists that Darcy eat breakfast with her, and they sit on the long table in the dining room, scoffing croissants and giggling like schoolgirls. The chandelier above them reflects white winter light that merges with the yellow of the fire and candles, and Dina feels incredibly warm. </p><p> </p><p>It's like floating, she decides. It's incredibly cliché, something that Dina hates, though she accepts it. What else could she do? </p><p> </p><p>Once, she'd made a vow not to travel down the stone set path that everybody expected her to take, and look at her now. She and Jesse would be married, and though she wants it, she understands that that's simply an extra. They'd be married even if she didn't want it. A breakup, at this stage, would be social suicide. Her mother would never speak to her again. She almost had a heart attack when Dina told her that she and Jesse were moving in together. </p><p> </p><p>It's quite pessimistic, to think of a breakup when she's been thinking so much about a wedding, but she can't help it. So much happiness ignites flames of doubt, flickers of negativity. Though, it could just be the effects of the cold weather. </p><p> </p><p>Darcy stops speaking. “Dina, are you okay?” </p><p> </p><p>Dina meets Darcy's eyes, smiling reassuringly. “Quite alright. You were saying?” </p><p> </p><p>It's something that happens to her too often. Her thoughts spiral downwards, dragging her mood with them, and she's sure it's something she's inherited from her mother. God knows that woman's mood can change in a split second. </p><p> </p><p>She craves Jesse's presence, so she could flip the coin that was her head and start thinking about the side that was the wedding again. </p><p> </p><p>“Darcy,” She starts, the questioning in her voice evident. “Would it be too… <em>forward</em> of me to go to lunch with Jesse? Even though he's working?” </p><p> </p><p>Darcy makes a noncommittal sort of sound, and waves her hand. “He <em>is</em> your boyfriend, Dina. It wouldn't be forward at all.” </p><p> </p><p>----</p><p> </p><p>And so, she ends up at the town hall before the clock chimes for midday. </p><p> </p><p>The guard out front, Harris, knows her well enough to let her through easily, and he kindly directs her to Jesse's office. She's been here before, of course, but her visits were rare and not significant enough for her to remember details. </p><p> </p><p>The halls of the building were carpeted with red, the walls were inlaid with ornate designs that feel somewhat historic. Glass cases are dotted around, displaying documents and pens that were used to sign them. </p><p> </p><p>She knocks before entering Jesse's office, and she hears something drop from his hand before she sees it. He smiles, clearly taken aback, and then all her thoughts are <em>Jesse Jesse Jesse </em>and <em>wedding wedding wedding. </em></p><p> </p><p>He rushes from his desk, arms twisting around her, and he kisses her sweetly. “What are you doing here?” Is that <em>giddiness </em>she can hear in his voice? </p><p> </p><p>“Thought I might surprise you. Catch you off guard for once.” She smiles as he goes to kiss her again, before he pulls back and pulls a chair out for her. </p><p> </p><p>She sits, folding her hands into her lap. “I was thinking that we could maybe eat lunch together. I've been missing you.” He deflates slightly, disappointment showing on his face as he drops into his chair. She’ll be honest, it’s not the reaction she’d hoped for. </p><p> </p><p>“I’m sorry Dina, I’ve a business lunch today. I was specifically asked for, so it can’t be missed. I apologise,” he sighs, straightening the tie round his neck. It’s one she bought for him, a deep blue with swirls of black. She thinks it looks rather handsome. </p><p> </p><p>Dina shrugs, “Can’t I go with you?” </p><p> </p><p>Jesse hesitates. She knows he’s remembering the last time she’d been anywhere near a congressman, a year or so ago when they hosted a dinner at the house. It had been, to put it simply, a disaster of inappropriate comments on Dina’s part and hasty apologies on Jesse’s part. She had been drunk, though she blames that one on the fact that it had been a few days before Christmas. <em>Jesse, it’s the holidays. What does that mean, if it doesn’t mean that you are required to be plied with alcohol all night? </em></p><p> </p><p>He’d been angry with her for a week after that. </p><p> </p><p>“Come on, Jesse. I’ll be good, and Darcy and I’ve been practicing congress talk. I’m good at it.” </p><p> </p><p>He sits up. “Why’ve you been doing that?” </p><p> </p><p>“To make fun of them, of course,” He groans, and her chances of accompanying him are fast slipping away so she scrambles to add, “<em>Privately, </em>to <em>privately </em>make fun of them. And to help with small talk at parties and the likes.” </p><p> </p><p>Jesse caves, and so she's smug as he waits for him to pull on his coat, and she's smug all the way to the restaurant. He's stern as he explains that she has to be appropriate, and that he should be the one to lead the conversation. Dina nods along without really listening, her attention lost to the snow-capped trees lining the road. </p><p> </p><p>The car stops with the pulling sound of the breaks, and the door is opened for them to step out into the cold. This part of town is rather… <em>exclusive</em>; it's a jumble of grandeur and high, sweeping rooftops that boast status and class. </p><p> </p><p>The restaurant is near empty, but between the red tablecloths and the Christmas tree that stands tall in the corner, it feels strangely full. Dina unbuttons her coat as Jesse talks quietly with the host, and then they’re being led through to their table. </p><p> </p><p>“His name is Joel Miller, as in, the Miller estate just West of here. Tommy Miller’s long lost brother. He’s retired, this lunch is just a pleasantry.” Jesse murmurs it so slowly that she almost doesn’t hear. Annoyance blossoms in her chest. He couldn’t have told her details in the car? </p><p> </p><p>“Your table,” </p><p> </p><p>Two women are already sitting at the table, heads close in clearly private conversation. Dina hesitates and so does Jesse, both of them looking to the restaurant host in questioning. Jesse smiles politely, but Dina senses his disgruntlement, “Sir, there’s been some mistake, we’re meeting Mr Miller?” </p><p> </p><p>The host’s moustache twitches as he opens his mouth to answer, but the commotion has already alerted the two women. The taller of the pair looks up, staring in brilliant green, “Joel Miller, right?” </p><p> </p><p>Jesse startles and meets her eyes. “Yes. You are?” </p><p> </p><p>She jumps to her feet, almost as tall as Jesse, holding out her hand to shake his already outstretched one. “Ellie Williams. Joel’s daughter.” </p><p> </p><p>His eyes widen in surprise, though he takes it in his stride, pulling Dina’s chair out and sliding into his own. “Jesse Ikeda, and my better half, Dina Abel,” The other woman introduces herself as Catherine Ahn, and Jesse clears his throat. “I have to say, Miss Williams, I would’ve expected a letter from Mr Miller, at least—“ </p><p> </p><p>“Mr Miller is dead.” </p><p> </p><p>Dina’s eyes snap to see Ellie leaning back in her chair, something like wry sorrow tugging at her face. Her blunt statement hangs in the air, suspended by the sudden tension around the table. Jesse’s mouth snaps closed and Catherine stiffens, and Dina sees her move her hand to tug Ellie’s sleeve. Dina wonders what it means. Comfort? Warning? </p><p> </p><p>Catherine speaks softly, in contrast with the sharpness of her jet-black hair and jaw, “He passed away, early last month. It was a private affair, so we apologise that news seems not to have travelled.” </p><p> </p><p>Seemingly regaining his composure, Jesse nods. “Well, then, allow me to apologise, and offer my condolences.” Dina parrots this, and Ellie sits up, shakes her head, and as though she’d commanded it, the tension falls away immediately. </p><p> </p><p>“It’s okay,” Ellie smiles, eyes shifting from Jesse to Dina, “And I didn’t bring Cat to dinner for us to talk about that. I brought her for a pleasant meal, because I hear this is the best restaurant in Jackson.”</p><p> </p><p>Dina enjoys herself, which is surprising for what Jesse had called a ‘business dinner’. Ellie Williams doesn’t talk about business the entire time, instead she asks questions, and makes jokes that even have Jesse laughing. Catherine, or Cat, as Ellie called her, is quick-witted enough to rival Dina, though far less competitive. She sits properly as opposed to Ellie’s easy slouch, quiet apart from the few comments she drops every now and again. </p><p> </p><p>They eat lamb and rice and follow it with too much wine, and as evening starts to fall outside the glass walls, Dina’s half drunk on Jesse’s arm. Ellie’s cheeks are red with alcohol too, though she seems far more composed as she informs them that she’ll be taking up residence at the Miller Estate. “Luckily, I never inherited Joel’s ability to hold grudges like a fool. It’s time for me to reconnect with my uncle, and I hope you’ll be able to pass a message on to him for me?” For the first time all afternoon, Ellie’s shoulders are set in seriousness, and her eyes are hard. It’s not intimidating, though it feels that way to Dina. </p><p> </p><p>“I don’t regularly talk with the Mayor. He’s a busy man, Miss Williams.” </p><p> </p><p>Ellie raises an eyebrow, and Dina notices a strange slit that separates the hairs. She wonders, briefly, exactly <em>why </em>it interests Dina so much. It certainly shouldn’t, and it brings a wave of heat to her cheeks. </p><p> </p><p>“Well then, Mr Ikeda. Make an exception, and tell him that I’ll be awaiting an invitation to dinner. And to send Maria my love,” They’re done here, that much is clear. Finality laces Ellie’s voice and Dina gets the message before Jesse, and she stands to pull on her cloak jacket. She looks up to see Ellie, one hand on Cat’s shoulder, watching her. </p><p> </p><p>“Miss Abel, you mentioned knowing the town well, and also your cold weather boredom. Perhaps you might find the time to show us around, if it wouldn’t be too much of a bother?” </p><p> </p><p>Of all the times she could’ve lost her words, now has to be the time. Standing awkwardly, with Ellie Williams’ charming smile directed full force at her, with Jesse beside her looking into his lap indignantly, with the restaurant host a few feet away. “Um-“ </p><p> </p><p>Jesse cuts in. “She’s busy, Miss Williams. Though I can offer an official guide.” Ellie’s eyes flash. Dina clears her throat. </p><p> </p><p>“Actually, I’m sure I can find the time, Miss Williams. It won’t be any bother.” </p><p> </p><p>Dina’s not sure what to call the expression that crosses Ellie’s face, but she would liken it to a quiet kind of triumph. Ellie thanks her, distracted momentarily with helping Catherine with her coat. A tugging on her hand brings her face to meet Jesse’s, and she can see the anger on his face. It makes her want to roll her eyes, like Catherine had done many times throughout the meal. He doesn’t have any right to determine what she can and can’t do in her own time.</p><p> </p><p>“Have a pleasant evening then. Miss Abel, I hope to see you soon.” Dina suspects Ellie had purposefully ignored Jesse, and she thinks that Jesse suspects it as well, if his annoyed huff of breath is any indication. They’re left alone, watching Ellie and Catherine strolling away, the pair of them arm in arm. Dina knows she and Jesse won’t leave that way. </p><p> </p><p>She turns to him, “Jesse—“</p><p> </p><p>“No, Dina. She’s full of it! She’s not from here, you don’t know her at <em>all</em>, and you’re just going to act like you’re best friends?” </p><p> </p><p>“You liked her well enough until she asked a favour, and showing somebody around is simply a nicety, not acting like a best friend. Don’t be dramatic, Jesse.” </p><p> </p><p>It’s the last thing she says to him all night.</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. two</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>hello,,</p><p>before you read on i'd like to remind everyone that this IS an ellie/dina story !! it's tagged as a slow burn for a reason :) </p><p>i hope you enjoy the chapter !!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The bed is cold when she wakes, but the room is heavily scented with the smell of roses. Dina sits up, groggy and rubbing at her eyes, and squints at the vase that sits on the dresser. An apology from Jesse, she guesses. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She drops back to the sheets. It’s not the first time he’s overreacted about something so trivial, and she’s starting to learn that it’ll never be the last. Dina would call it his fatal flaw, but they make up every time so it’s not fatal, really. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Today, she eats breakfast by herself, though she finds herself wishing that Darcy were here. At least to provide some kind of conversation, any sound that isn’t the chiming of spoon on bowl. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The heavy snow ceases around midday, and as it was the only thing keeping her inside, she opts for a walk to fill the empty time until Jesse’s return. It’s something she does quite often, lack of a job and friends in the same situation as her doesn’t permit much else.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dina walks slowly down the path leading away from the townhouse, the cloak she’s wearing feeling heavy on her shoulders. Bushes rustle with drifting breeze as she moves past them, leaves left over from autumn sticking out of the snow. She remembers years ago, strolling down this very trail with Jesse beside her: only then, he was a happier, calmer man. They’d only met a few weeks before that, and Jesse still lived in the house with his parents. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Winter seems to make her awfully nostalgic, she realises. </span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dina sees Catherine before Catherine sees her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She’s alone, sitting on a bench and staring out at the mountains. Her knee bounces up and down under thick trousers, her dark hair lifted by wind under the hat that’s pulled low over her ears. She looks upset. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dina would prefer to back up quietly and leave Catherine to her pondering, but the universe works in mysterious ways and Catherine glances up. “Dina!” Her voice is coloured with surprise. It’s a surprise for Dina too, that she should run into Catherine on this trail, considering it’s seclusion and distance from the Miller estate. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Catherine, what a pleasant surprise!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Catherine gestures for Dina to sit, and then turns to her, “Call me Cat, Dina. Catherine sounds so formal.” Dina doesn’t point out that sounding formal is the point, because they </span>
  <em>
    <span>are </span>
  </em>
  <span>strangers.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Perhaps she doesn’t have to point out anything though; they lapse into silence that feels far from comfortable and closer to awkwardness, but Dina has no idea how to break it. Catherine— </span>
  <em>
    <span>Cat, </span>
  </em>
  <span>barely talked yesterday, so what is Dina supposed to mention? The only thing she can think of is Ellie. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Are you out here yourself?” She hopes it doesn’t sound intrusive, it certainly isn’t meant to sound that way. She’s always had a kind of hesitance talking to strangers, it’s far, far easier to strike up conversation with people you actually </span>
  <em>
    <span>know.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Cat sighs, and Dina hears it’s shakiness. Maybe she shouldn’t have brought Ellie up. “Yes, I needed to… clear my head.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Is everything okay?” They both hear the part of the question Dina doesn’t say, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Is everything okay with Ellie? </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ellie is going around the estate throwing out any and all traces of her father, so I’m not sure.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It throws Dina for a second, but she shakes her head, frowning, “Why would she do that?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Cat’s eyes widen and she makes a hand gesture that suggests that she has about as much a clue as Dina does. Cat sighs, looking up to the sky as though it might hold an answer for her. “She’s just… she and Joel weren’t close, at least not when he passed. I don’t… I don’t know what to do to help her, you know?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dina does know. Jesse’s the same. His pride runs deep, too deep for Dina to reach for it, though she tries and tries and tries. He’ll never let her help him, perhaps it’s patriarchal or something he learned from his own late father, but she knows that he’ll never let her help him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I understand. Jesse’s the same. Too proud and too stubborn.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>To her surprise, Cat laughs quietly, “God knows Ellie is too damn stubborn for her own good.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dina looks away from Cat, out at the mountains that Jesse once took her to. They’re beautiful, tall and unforgiving, the most powerful things in the world yet still the most peaceful. She imagines standing at the summit, staring down at the shrunken forest below. “You sound fond of her.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She feels Cat’s eyes on her. “Who, Ellie?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We’re… close. She’s the closest thing I have.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Close how? Close friends? Close </span>
  <em>
    <span>what</span>
  </em>
  <span>? “The closest thing to what?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sorry?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You said she’s the closest you have. I hope it doesn’t seem too intrusive of me to ask?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Cat lets out another sigh, though it doesn’t sound like an offended sort of sigh. Dina still feels like she crossed a line though, because Cat seems suddenly closed off, far away. “It’s not intrusive, though there’s no answer for your question. She’s the closest I have.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Their conversation has reached its tail end. Cat stands up, brushing her pants off, and smiles kindly at Dina. Dina mirrors it, and wishes Cat well as she retreats back down the path, leaving Dina to stare out over the ledge again, wondering about things she doesn’t have the answers to. </span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ellie hears the door slam shut, and Cat’s footsteps on the hardwood floor.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She can be an idiot sometimes. She should have chased after Cat the second she rushed out of the house, she should have apologised for being so cruel to someone who has done nothing but help her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ellie?” Cat’s voice sounds from the hall, echoing around the tall rooms and through the thin walls. Ellie rubs a hand over her face, the regret in her stomach increasing tenfold at the exhaustion she hears. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m in here.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Standing from her place in front of the fire, Ellie turns to see Cat, staring from the doorway. She’s been outside, Ellie’s eyes immediately find the cold that resides in the flush of her cheeks. There’s another pang of regret inside of her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry I was gone so long… the walk–“ </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I shouldn’t have shouted–“ </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They cut off, smiling despite themselves at each other, and Ellie hopes with everything that they’ll be okay. She takes a sharp breath, and Cat waits for her to speak. “I shouldn’t have shouted, Cat. I’m sorry, I acted out of order, and–“ Ellie’s sentence falls away, words failing her. She sighs. “I’m sorry, Cat. And don’t you go apologising for anything. You didn’t do anything, okay? It was me.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Cat nods, and she stays. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Their evening is spent quietly, largely avoiding one another in the hopes that it would ease the straining on their relationship. Ellie feels like a coward, hovering by the landing in trepidation, unsure of whether she’s allowed into the bedroom or not. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She remains undetected for the better part of ten minutes, then Cat crosses the hall and sees her. They hold what feels like an intense staring competition for a few seconds— or hours — and then Cat smiles. Ellie blinks. She’s not imagining it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Then, Cat’s hand is reaching to pull Ellie up the remaining stairs, closer closer closer until they’re near enough to kiss. Ellie stares down at her, but Cat looks off to the side, lost in thoughts. Ellie taps her temple, prompting another smile to pull at Cat’s lips. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’d better stop thinking so hard. You’ll do yourself a brain injury.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Cat huffs out a laugh, her cheek falling against Ellie’s chest. “The only one with a brain injury is you, Williams.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I knew there was a reason I fell in love with you,” She grins, proud of the joke and of the fond exasperation evident in the way Cat shakes her head and presses their bodies closer in the candle-lit hallway. Cat's opening her mouth to say something back, but then Ellie's leaning down, kissing her before she gets her words out. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Cat turns into her properly, tilting her face up to kiss back, hands twisting into the back of Ellie's shirt. It feels familiar, the lavender note of Cat's perfume, the softness of tousled black hair against her cheek. Ellie loves it, and when she pulls back to see Cat's eyes blown wide, she loves it even more. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Come to bed?” Cat says in a near-whisper, still settled in the circle of Ellie's arms. Ellie nods, and wonders if Cat can see the relief washing over her in waves. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Just give me a minute,” Her lips touch Cat's cheek; Cat steps away, her blush not lost to the shadows. Ellie watches her go, eyes fluttering shut, hopelessly in love. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>----</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>“I saw Dina yesterday,” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ellie lifts her head from the pillow to see Cat's back facing the vanity, her face staring back through the mirror. “Strange coincidence. Was she alright?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Cat shrugs, “She seemed a bit down, but I didn't feel that it was my place to ask.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ellie thinks of Jesse then, the anger flaring up on his face, how he'd cut in to answer a question that hadn’t been meant for him. What an idiot. She voices this statement, and Cat’s inclined to agree. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They talk idly, peacefully, words flowing over words with the kind of ease that only comes with a relationship as strong as theirs. She's half asleep, head propped on a pillow, staring blearily as Cat applies makeup in the mirror. She frowns, confused. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What're you getting ready for?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Cat rolls her eyes, though it's in good faith. “I can see that you haven't noticed, El, but we're in dire need of some help around here.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How do you mean?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Twisting round, Cat stretches her arms in what Ellie supposes is a way to indicate the whole house. “There’s no servants, no maids, absolutely </span>
  <em>
    <span>no </span>
  </em>
  <span>way for us to manage a house this big alone, let alone the entire </span>
  <em>
    <span>estate. </span>
  </em>
  <span>I've arranged a few interviews, for hiring and the likes.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She blinks, once, twice, “And when did you find the time for that?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Standing and setting herself on the edge of the bed, Cat smiles down at her. It really is a vision to behold, a memory to keep: to tuck deep into her trouser pockets so she could take it out later. She would take it out and admire the sun catching on the lighter strands of Cat's hair, the blush of her cheeks as they dimple; she would obsess over the fact that it's something she gets to see every day. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lost in her own thoughts, Ellie doesn't hear Cat's response, but she feels the light touch to her cheek. She glances up at brown eyes crinkling in concern. “Hmm?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I said that you don't need to worry </span>
  <em>
    <span>when </span>
  </em>
  <span>I arranged the interviews. Just </span>
  <em>
    <span>that </span>
  </em>
  <span>I arranged them,” Cat tugs the covers away from Ellie's body, swatting away Ellie's reaching hand. “Now, get up, dress nicely, and meet me downstairs.” </span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Cat, </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>We saw each other only two days ago, and yet I cannot stop thinking about you. Perhaps, like you said, I really am a romantic at heart. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>It's incredibly cliché of me to say, almost hurtfully cliché, but I truly do think I loved you at first sight. I know that I am not as kind-hearted, as agreeable, as charming as you, but I wish for you to know that I am trying. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I've told you that it's hard for me to allow people to be close to me; you've seen yourself how difficult mine and Joel's relationship is. Somehow, despite that fact, you're still here, with me, and there's no words to express the immense gratitude and love that I hold in my heart for you. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The point of this letter however, is not to drone on about the woes of the heart, but to ask if you'd do me the honour of accompanying me to the Spring Ball this coming Sunday.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I await your reply. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>All my love, </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Ellie xxx</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Cat drops the letter to the desk, her traitorous cheeks heating up despite her best attempts. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her heart skips and jumps around in her chest, and it's such a foreign feeling for her. The postman's son used to make her nervous. So did the girl she used to sit next to at school. She knows what crushes feel like.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And yet, something about this one feels terribly different. Like stepping out onto ice in the freezing winter, where she's aware of how delicate the whole situation is, but it's so </span>
  <em>
    <span>exhilarating </span>
  </em>
  <span>that she can't find it in herself to care. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She writes her answer back, </span>
  <em>
    <span>a thousand times yes</span>
  </em>
  <span>, and hands it to a maid. She lowers her voice. “Will you send it on express? It's rather important to me.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>At dinner she does her best to blend in with the chair she sits on. Her father would describe her as </span>
  <em>
    <span>away with the fairies</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Her mother would tell her to </span>
  <em>
    <span>stop dreaming, Cat. </span>
  </em>
  <span>But she's already so far in, and in her imagination she's dancing. Ellie laughs, her head dipping to tell a joke that makes Cat laugh loudly enough for them to attract attention. Ellie tells her to hush, but she's laughing too. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Cat. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Cat.</span>
  </em>
  <span>” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She glances up and out of her daydream. “Mother?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Cat's mother sighs, resigned to the fact that her daughter is an escapist dreamer through and through. “Charles Greenway has asked if you'd attend the Spring Ball on his arm.” Charles Greenway… Cat resists the urge to roll her eyes. They'd known each other since childhood, and Mother had always called him </span>
  <em>
    <span>Charlie from across the road. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Then they got older and suddenly formalities were a necessity. Cat despises it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well what'd you tell him?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Swallowing before answering, Mother sighs again. “I said I'd ask you. And so I have.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Carefully, Cat studies her mother's almost impassive face. She nods, mostly to herself. “You think I should accept.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I do.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I'm already going to the Ball.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Astonishment clouds her mother's face. Cat doesn't blame her, she knows herself that she's not an extravagant-party type person. Mother coughs into her sleeve. “With who?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ellie. She wants to say the truth. She wants badly to be able to share her joy with somebody. To show her mother Ellie's letter so they could giggle over it together, and then someone might be able to understand </span>
  <em>
    <span>why</span>
  </em>
  <span> she's so happy. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She can't, though. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“One of Ellie William's friends.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She escapes soon after that, back up to her bedroom. It's darker there, so nobody sees her when she clutches the letter to her chest, willing Sunday to come quickly.</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>i would marry ellie williams in a heartbeat. </p><p>if you enjoyed it and feel like leaving a comment, please leave one ! i love reading them :) </p><p>thank you for reading, and i hope you and your families are staying safe ✨</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. three</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>in order for this story to work, someone had to be an asshole. jesse, i'm sorry. </p><p>enjoy !</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“This is my favourite street in Jackson,” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dina gestures rather lavishly at a street sign reading </span>
  <em>
    <span>Camellia Walk, </span>
  </em>
  <span>and turns back to see Ellie and Cat looking quite entranced. A small wave of pride rises in her chest; she'd hoped that they would love the street as much as her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It's a quiet place, closed off on both sides by shrubbery and, as the name suggests, Camellia bushes. Street lamps line the road, their spindly forms dark against the sun-lit leaves. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The place is beautiful in the Summer, but in the Winter it's truly enchanting. Icicles hang from the scrolls of the wrought iron fence, powder snow layers the ground and caps the tops of the lamps. The Camellias fight against the cold, their baby pink colour intensified by the pure white of the snow. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ellie steps forward, hands deep in the pockets of her coat, her collar skewed slightly under a dark scarf. “It's magnificent, Dina.” She's smiling, and Cat is too. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“As I said, it's my favourite. My sister and I used to take walks here, almost every day.” If either Cat or Ellie sense the mourning in her voice, they choose not to bring it to attention. Dina's grateful. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They chat amicably as they go on, and Dina remembers last week, Cat saying that Ellie's the closest she has. It's obvious, in the way they walk so closely, Ellie's hand on Cat's arm to steady her uphill, Cat's head turning to glance at Ellie time and time again. It's obvious, but it's quiet too. Secretive. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Then again, Dina's not properly sure what it is at all. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She learns that they came from Boston, though Cat had been to Jackson a few times. Ellie likes to paint, and she says that she may have to take her canvas up to a high spot so she can paint the mountains. Cat paints too, but her interest lies more in drawing. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dina hates the jealousy that nudges the back of her throat. Ellie and Cat share a hobby: they have a common interest. She imagines them sitting in a conservatory, side by side, painting together and giggling privately. Cat's head might drop to Ellie's shoulder. Ellie might paint a picture of Cat on her canvas. They would hang it above their fireplace. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She and Jesse don't have that. They don't </span>
  <em>
    <span>share </span>
  </em>
  <span>anything really, not even future plans. Dina hopes for a wedding, and he </span>
  <em>
    <span>expects </span>
  </em>
  <span>a marriage. He's a good man, yet he's rooted so deeply in patriarchal tradition. Dina wishes for him to grow up, not to change; she loves him for who he is, but simply for him to mature a little. Maturity might finally give him the push he needs  to propose, or at least to stop acting so much like a child.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She hopes so, but unlike him, she doesn't expect so. </span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>They stop for lunch at a tea room that she and Jesse often frequent. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The three of them are ushered inside, shoulders bumping against shoulders in the small spaces between tables. Teaspoons chime against teacups and people laugh, the sounds reverberating from the bunting lined ceiling. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Their table is set in the corner, all delicate china cups and pale blue napkins folded prettily beside them. They sit, and order tea (because what else are you supposed to do in a tea room?), then Dina grins at her companions:</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So, how're you finding Jackson so far?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ellie rubs her hands together to try to warm them up, “It’s absolutely freezing here. My fingers may well be frozen in place forever.” Cat swats her shoulder, mock-seriousness playing on her face, and turns back to Dina. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s lovely, Dina. You’ve lived here all your life?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A waitress arrives before Dina answers, with a pot of tea and tiny sandwiches that are far too expensive for what they are. They thank her, and despite Dina's determination to stay away from any topic regarding Jesse, the conversation lands onto him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It's Ellie who starts it, sprawled slightly in her chair, casually shrugging and holding a sandwich midair. “How's it with Jesse then?” The question isn't laced with an ulterior motive, it's clear Ellie's asking for the sake of asking, but Dina shifts uncomfortably anyway. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well… we're okay, I suppose.” She takes a gulp of piping hot tea to delay the conversation or perhaps put a stop to it all together; she regrets it soon after. Her mouth burns, and Ellie watches her, almost hidden amusement flickering in her green eyes. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You suppose?” Ellie doesn't let it go, but nothing about her demeanor is demanding. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dina makes a snap decision to lie. It's not her best moment, but she'd rather not do a tell-all of all of the bad parts of her relationship. “I've been thinking of a wedding.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Cat gasps in joy, Ellie's eyebrows raise slightly. Dina stares, unflinching to the comment she can feel coming her way. Something changes though, a split second of their eyes meeting and then Ellie's smiling like she's happy for Dina. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Truthfully, she doesn't know Ellie Williams all that well, but she suspects that she is </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>happy about the prospect of a wedding. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“A wedding! Dina that's </span>
  <em>
    <span>wonderful!</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Cat is over the moon, and it's rather endearing considering the short time they've known each other. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes, truly wonderful.” Ellie echoes, though it feels like quite an empty sentiment. However Dina lets it go, too unsure to bring it up and too polite to do it so publicly. If Ellie doesn't like Jesse, then that's got nothing to do with Dina. She ought to let them deal with it themselves. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Then again, she never had been good at leaving things be. </span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Jesse,” Dina starts, and he looks up. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>What </span>
  </em>
  <span>is the problem between you and Ellie Williams?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Eyes widening, he snaps his book closed and sets it on the nightstand, turning to her fully. They're laying in bed, and he had been reading while she simply thought for a while, but she just </span>
  <em>
    <span>had </span>
  </em>
  <span>to know. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“There isn't a problem,” He says, and she scoffs. Carefully, yet somehow oh-so-</span>
  <em>
    <span>carelessly</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he adds: “Apart from the fact that she's a heartless,  egocentric asshole, of course.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>This time it's Dina's turn to startle; she knows he can be harsh, but he'd only met Ellie once. She glosses over his crassness, and says, “She feels the same about you too, I think.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He bristles, and picks his book up. “Let it be, Dina. Not everyone has a friendship destined for them.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She does not want to </span>
  <em>
    <span>let it be. </span>
  </em>
  <span>“You ought to be friendlier, you know. It's not attractive to be so judgemental and </span>
  <em>
    <span>rude</span>
  </em>
  <span> to somebody you don't even know.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Despite the resoluteness coating her words, his gaze stays fixed to the page of his book. “Oh, and you know her?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I do, actually. Mind you, I've only seen her once more than you, but I've run into Cat as well, and I quite like both of them.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The mention of Cat seems to annoy him more. His forehead creases, and not in the way she used to obsess over, but in a more irritated manner. This isn't her Jesse, why is he so temperamental? “They quite like each other too, don't you think?” He says it with something like hatred in his voice. It throws her for a moment, the way such cruelness overpowers something she knows can be so gentle. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She realises what he means. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Oh. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Ellie and Cat. Their… closeness. The closeness Dina envied. He hates it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She gapes, though only briefly, and makes a fast decision to firmly display that she does </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>hate it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So what if they like each other? That's their own business.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Now he looks up, completely angered, staring at her like she's grown another head. “Dina, they're</span>
  <em>
    <span> women.</span>
  </em>
  <span>” His tone is condescending, as though he's explaining elementary basics to her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And it's </span>
  <em>
    <span>none </span>
  </em>
  <span>of our business what they're doing together.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His thick eyebrows slant in disbelief, his jaw slackens with shock. Straightening, his arms fold in the manner of a man of authority. “It may not be our business, but that doesn't change the fact that it's wrong.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Here they are, partners in a relationship that quite obviously needs </span>
  <em>
    <span>both </span>
  </em>
  <span>of them to survive, and he talks as though he's in charge. As though his opinion is superior and therefore she should agree with them. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It's not </span>
  <em>
    <span>wrong </span>
  </em>
  <span>Jesse! Loving somebody isn't </span>
  <em>
    <span>wrong</span>
  </em>
  <span>!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Dina–” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And what's wrong or right </span>
  <em>
    <span>isn't </span>
  </em>
  <span>for you to decide!” He scoffs, and suddenly she wants to be far away from this place. She kicks the covers away and shoves his reaching hand from her shoulder, stuffing her feet into slippers and barreling out of their bedroom, without even her dressing gown. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Recklessness runs in the family and so does the ability to act extremely histrionically; obviously those traits chose now to surface again. How convenient. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She slams each door she passes, furious with the world, before collapsing in front of the fire. She stares into it's almost dying embers, distraught. All she had wanted was a wedding. They could have been married before she learnt of this side of him, this horrible, hate-filled side of him; if they'd been married she might have let it go. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Let it be. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>How can she let it be now? </span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>It isn't until late in the morning that a maid comes to wake her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She remains half in slumber as the sounds of two young women talking float around. She vaguely recognises Darcy's voice, and she makes out the words </span>
  <em>
    <span>Don't worry, I'll help… You go on… She'll be fine… They fight all the time. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Are they talking about her and Jesse? Yes, most likely. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Then she's being helped up: she groans, Darcy's face flashes in front of her, all red cheeks and worried eyes. She's half dragged to her bedroom, set down carefully in an armchair, and Dina realises how badly her body aches. Sleeping on the floor without either a pillow nor a blanket had not been the wisest choice. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Are you alright, Dina?” Darcy asks, hesitant to press for any information. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dina smiles, though it's painfully wry. “I will be. Though I have doubts for mine and Jesse's relationship.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I'm sorry to hear that.” Darcy says, and she says something else, vaguely comforting, but Dina shifts away. Into another time, another world, where perhaps she and Jesse had never met Ellie Williams, they'd never had the fight, and they'd been wed by summertime. Or, they'd met Ellie Williams, and had the fight, and Dina had left Jesse and lived her own life. She would've met another lover, and she wouldn't have </span>
  <em>
    <span>settled </span>
  </em>
  <span>for anything. She would have been properly happy. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She falls to sleep there, and doesn't wake again until evening. </span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Two years ago</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She meets Jesse on the eighteenth of September. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They walk around the markets together, and her favourite thing about him is the way his hair curls slightly under the hem of his flat cap. He's nice enough, he buys them coffee and lets her try some of his latte. The sky is grey and the day is windy, and his arm feels comforting around her waist.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I had a wonderful time.” He says afterwards, her arm still hooked through his. The sun is just starting to set, casting warm light that smooths over the autumn scene. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dina smiles up at him. She'd enjoyed herself too, though she could have done without the fifteen minute long rendition of his lineage and relations. “It was nice, yes.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The answer satisfies him and he continues leading her back towards the road, where the car awaits. A few times throughout the day he'd mentioned marriage, and she'd tried to hide how uncomfortable it made her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Nineteen and a year out of school, she remains at the age where marriage is spoken about like an event that will happen in a hundred years or so. He talks about it like it will happen tomorrow. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She gets home to what would seem to be some sort of quiz night, only all of the questions are directed at Dina. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Was he nice? Was he handsome? Where did you go? Did you like him? </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It's all very overwhelming, and so she tells a lie of eating dinner with Jesse already; slipping past her mother and sister as she hurries up to her bedroom. The quiet there allows her space to think, to reflect, on Jesse. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He's rather boring, she thinks. He's not the man she dreamed of, though he's close enough. He's kind, not properly funny but still able to tell a few jokes. He's tall, handsome, though not drop-dead-hansome. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She could be happy with someone like him. They could balance each other out. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Later, she decides that she'll see him again. It feels strangely as though she's giving something up in making that decision. Like she's giving up her own wishes, maybe. She tries to forget about it. </span>
</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>the google doc i write this on is called 'hit list'. i thought it was hilarious but now i realise it's concerning and vaguely threatening to everyone in this story. </p><p>i hope you enjoyed the chapter, and i hope you're liking the progression of things. i'm trying to keep everything as natural-feeling as possible. </p><p>if you read this far and still feel like leaving a comment, leave one ! they make me so happy and i love replying :)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. four</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>hello ! thank you for all the support the story's been getting, i appreciate it so much :) </p><p>so this is definitely my favourite chapter so far, i hope you enjoy it. for better or for worse, i love Cat so much, and i'm not looking forward to the inevitable Cat~Ellie breakup :( even though i also love Dina so much this is so confusing for me i love them all,,,</p><p>enjoy !! </p><p>[A BIT NSFW AT THE END BUT it was to be expected. if it's going to make you uncomfortable in any way, please skip over it :) if it's not going to make you uncomfortable, read on ! ]</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Ellie sets down the letter with an annoyed huff, her brows furrowing in contemplation. Cat glances over, but makes no comment. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The letter had been sent by none other than Tommy Miller, inviting her to dinner in a few days. It's what she wanted, however not quite like this. The words are mundane and lacking in sentiment, and Ellie gets the feeling that Tommy hadn't even written the letter himself. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He's treating her like some problem that needs immediate handling, and she loathes it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Truth be told she doesn't remember much about the man. He spoke the same way as Joel, though he was much calmer and easier to talk to. Joel was gruff and proud, and from what she recalls, Tommy was never quite like that. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Would she call him </span>
  <em>
    <span>Uncle Tommy? </span>
  </em>
  <span>It sounds foreign in her mind. Maybe she'll stick with just </span>
  <em>
    <span>Tommy</span>
  </em>
  <span> for now. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Cat?” There's a sound of acknowledgement from across the room. Ellie takes it as a sign to continue. “Tommy's invited us to dinner on Thursday. Shall I tell him yes, or…” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ellie's too far away to hear but she sees Cat take a nervous breath. It may have something to do with the last time Cat met any of Ellie's family. Meeting Joel had involved a lot of judgement and hard glares on his part, and a lot of nervous stuttering and clutching at Ellie's hand on Cat's part. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Cat seems to steady herself. “Send it.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Are you sure? I can attend alone, if you'd prefer?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“There's no need for that, Ellie. Tell them that we'll both be going.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ellie nods, and picks her pen up to do just that.</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>It's Wednesday when Cat brings it up. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ellie's painting, sitting cross legged on the floor, painting flowers up the table-leg. Cat had asked her to do it, to add some </span>
  <em>
    <span>life </span>
  </em>
  <span>to the place. It all feels rather dull, and she hopes that slowly they'll be able to turn it into a proper home. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ellie?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ellie looks over, green eyes still far away in imagination. Cat smiles, and hopes it doesn't look too weak. “Will we… tell them?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Tell who what?” Without looking Cat knows that Ellie's continued with her painting. She stands, this isn't a conversation Ellie can be half present in. She sits herself beside Ellie, shuffling closer and laying a hand on her’s to stop the flow of the paintbrush. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Will we tell your family that we're in love?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Surprise flashes across Ellie's freckled cheeks. A few seconds pass while Ellie thinks of her answer carefully, though it feels like days to Cat. Her heartbeat picks up almost painfully fast when after an age, Ellie opens her mouth. “I thought we might, considering they are my family.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her stomach seems to twist with trepidation, but her voice stays level. “But they're not close to you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Turning to Cat and giving her a confused kind of look, Ellie answers, “They're my </span>
  <em>
    <span>family</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Cat. The only family I have left.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Now Cat's voice shakes. “You haven't seen them in years!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“They're my family! What bad will come of telling them?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Any number of bad things!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They're standing now, face to face, and the air of the room feels cold. Blue paint is smeared on the underside of Ellie's chin, and Cat finds it so endearing that her stomach twists </span>
  <em>
    <span>more. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Like what? They're not going to do </span>
  <em>
    <span>anything</span>
  </em>
  <span>!” Ellie's voice is high and stretched with something Cat can't place; whatever it is it's horrible. She takes a step backwards. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You don't know that Ellie!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ellie looks away dismissively, but Cat sees it, the sudden fear that pulls the corners of her mouth downwards slightly. She sees the doubt flash in her eyes, and she pounces on it. “What if they hate you for it? They might never speak to you again! They could tell </span>
  <em>
    <span>everyone</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Ellie, and then what would we do? They could–” She heaves a breath, </span>
  <em>
    <span>when </span>
  </em>
  <span>did her hands start to shake? “They could tell </span>
  <em>
    <span>everyone.</span>
  </em>
  <span>” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her voice cracks on the last word and Ellie looks back to her. The tightly drawn expression on her face slackens into sorrow, and regret, but Cat still senses tenseness. She hates fighting, and she absolutely </span>
  <em>
    <span>hates </span>
  </em>
  <span>fighting with Ellie. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“They won't tell everyone.” It's a flimsy statement, a false consolation that Ellie knows Cat sees right through. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“They </span>
  <em>
    <span>might.</span>
  </em>
  <span>” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ellie sighs, eyes pleadingly apologetic for the shouting, her chin turning towards the floor. She nods, unaware of the pure relief flooding Cat's insides, unaware of her still-twisted stomach. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Surely, winning an argument shouldn't feel this gut-wrenching. </span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>They show up to Tommy's house fifteen minutes early, and still Ellie wishes they'd come earlier. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her thoughts are a whirlwind, her and Cat's argument spinning round and round and round, along with so much worry. Worry about seeing Tommy after so long. Worry about what he'll thing of her. Worry about if he or Maria somehow find out about them. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Last night she'd suggested something, her voice quiet in the dead of night. She'd posed the idea that perhaps Cat would stay home, it might be better, but Cat had insisted she come. She'd said that wanted to be there to support Ellie, even if on the outside it seemed they were simply friends. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>So here they are, the both of them equally nervous in the grand entryway to Tommy and Maria's. It's all red carpets and dark wood, rather imposing and hotel-esque in Ellie's opinion. A servant had led them to a padded bench with curled ends, and she and Cat sit strangely apart on it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Five minutes pass and then footsteps echo around the hall; a short-ish woman rounding the corner and stopping just on the room's threshold. Ellie stares at Maria, momentarily lost in memories of childhood and happiness. Maria waits, kind as always, and her smile is the same one Ellie remembers. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She's not sure who moves first but they're hugging then, and Ellie might be crying a little. Maria's shorter than her, and Ellie feels so much older  in her aunt's arms than she ever used to. “God, Ellie. You've grown so much,” Maria says as she pulls back, patting the shoulders of Ellie's dinner jacket in shock. She smiles, eyes crinkling.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You're older too, you know.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Maria rolls her eyes in good faith and steps back, rubbing slightly at her eyes, regaining composure. She looks to Cat, who stands further back, smiling politely. Only Ellie can feel the nerves radiation from her warm skin. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hello Mrs Miller,” Cat speaks softly, the same way she'd spoken the first time Ellie met her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Maria moves forward to envelope an unsuspecting Cat into a quick hug. Ellie laughs quietly at the surprised expression on Cat's face. “You must be Catherine! It's lovely to meet you,” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Cat moves away from the hug subtly. “Likewise, Mrs Miller. Ellie always speaks so fondly of you.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A playful glare is sent Ellie's way. “I hope that's the only way you speak of me.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Smiling widely, Ellie holds her hands up in surrender. She catches Cat's eyes, and nods in support, </span>
  <em>
    <span>everything's fine. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Yet still, Cat looks away. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Come, girls. Tommy's just at the dining table.” </span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tommy's greeting is one of an enormous bear hug that reminds her so much of Joel, and Ellie feels like an idiot for ever being scared to see him again. She'd read so much into that letter and it's nonexistent subtext that she'd forgotten that he was her </span>
  <em>
    <span>family. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He's warm to Cat, and she seems slightly more at ease as she sits. That puts Ellie's nerves for Cat at ease too. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Unsurprisingly, he brings Joel up first. Ellie's breath catches, she tries so hard to not think about Joel at all usually. It feels sort of… nice, to talk about him openly with someone who knew him. “He was a good man,” Tommy nods, sorrow evident on his ageing face, “An’ he did a damn good job in raising you.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ellie swallows down emotions she doesn't want to deal with right now, and inclines her head. “You must miss him so much. You didn't see him for years.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tommy waves a hand. “Us Millers and our grudges. I miss him like you do, but he's here. I even see him in you.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She's grateful for Cat's hand touching her’s under the table. It's an anchor of sorts, something for Ellie to focus on so that she can get ahold of herself. She isn't going to cry, not here. “Thank you, Tommy.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Never quite a sentimental man, Tommy changes the subject quickly. He grins at Cat. “Tell me, Catherine, exactly </span>
  <em>
    <span>how </span>
  </em>
  <span>you've managed to make friends with Ellie. As far as I recall, she never was quite the friendliest.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Cat launches into her story, and Ellie laughs in all the right pauses. It's fake, it's all fake, like when Cat mentions that Ellie's face was red with embarrassment: really, she'd been blushing because Cat was so much prettier up close. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The dinner passes with the half-familiar ease of a family meal. They eat and laugh and Cat sometimes holds her hand under the table. Tommy and Maria ask about everything, every question a constant reminder to Ellie that they hadn't forgotten about her, that they hadn't forgotten about Joel. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She'd spent so long in a kind of shadow, separated from Joel and Tommy and Maria. It had been horribly lonely; sitting in her bedroom in Boston, inhaling the dusty air. That had been her fault, she didn't let the maid in the room. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cat had relieved most of the loneliness. But still remained a chasm where her family were supposed to be, and it stayed echoing-ly empty. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pride runs deep with the Millers. It showed in Joel, and his unwillingness to reach out to Tommy. It showed in Tommy and his own  unwillingness to do the same. And, despite not being a Miller by blood, it runs deep in Ellie too. She never properly opened up to Joel, probably because he never opened up to her. They were quiet and argument-prone, neither one of them ever wanting to back down. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Now though, with Tommy's rumbling laugh and the Maria's warm grin, she feels better. An empty chasm shouldn't carry weight, but somehow as it fills itself again, something about her is lighter, almost. A weight off her shoulders. A newfound happiness. Like she's stepping out from that shadow. </span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ellie's clearly elated, and Cat won't be the one to ruin it. Many of her nights have been spent holding Ellie as she shook from nightmares, as she cried about loss and loneliness, and so she'll be damned if she ever does anything to hurt Ellie.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But Cat's not elated. She's far from it, actually. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>During the car ride home she feels sick. Her heart beats painfully and she presses herself into Ellie's side, feigning sleepiness as an excuse. Ellie smells familiar, she smells like their </span>
  <em>
    <span>home, </span>
  </em>
  <span>as it's all Cat can do to focus on that small fact to stop herself from maybe throwing up. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ellie helps her to the door, an arm firmly wrapped around Cat's waist. It feels secure. As though, if anything were to happen, Ellie would hold them together. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I had such a good time.” Ellie says happily, when she's laying in bed as Cat brushes out her hair. She tries to smile, and she thinks it works because she hears Ellie's laugh. That's familiar too; the laugh that only Cat gets to hear. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She climbs into bed, her insides feeling hollow-like. Clambering so she's propped on Ellie's lap, she leans down to press their lips together. Ellie responds immediately, and Cat’s filled with something like </span>
  <em>
    <span>fire. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They kiss forever and then some, and then Cat wants more and Ellie has her gasping, words that she'd never say anywhere but here. She can feel Ellie's grin against her leg and she wants </span>
  <em>
    <span>more</span>
  </em>
  <span>; she pushes herself further down the bed, relishing in the feeling of the hands holding her down. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her high is wonderfully consuming, she's a different person as her head flies back and she cried out. Ellie kisses her all the way back up, all up her stomach and neck and Cat's arms loop around her neck, and she's out of breath as their lips crash together. Ellie’s hands are in her hair, pressing them closer; Cat's eyes flutter shut as she loses herself further still. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Afterwards, Ellie kisses her forehead and rolls to the side, Cat sees her eyes shining from the moonlight. It's like they're suspended somewhere that isn't Jackson, somewhere properly safe where it could just be her and Ellie all the time. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ellie's half asleep, throwing an arm over Cat's body, pulling them together so her back is to Ellie's front. Their legs tangle intimately underneath the sheets, and Ellie's face dips into the back of her neck. It's familiar, and Cat drowns herself in the feeling, choking on it's warmth. </span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>It's dark, and Ellie wakes. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It takes her a few hazy seconds to work out exactly</span>
  <em>
    <span> why </span>
  </em>
  <span>she's awake, but then there's a quiet gasp from besides her and she knows. The low light makes it hard for her to see anything but she can make our Cat's hazy figure, hunched in the corner of the bed. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She sits up, and Cat startles like she's been burned. Ellie moves slower so she's next to her. “Cat?” Her voice is hesitant. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Cat looks up, moonlight washing over her face, and she looks so scared. She's trembling, and Ellie's panicking, </span>
  <em>
    <span>what should she do, what should she do. </span>
  </em>
  <span>A sob tears from Cat's throat and she practically falls into Ellie's arms, crying out words that Ellie can't make out. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bewildered, Ellie rubs her back in circles the way she knows usually calms Cat. “Cat?” She says again, her fingers gently pushing Cat's hair from her face.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What if they tell everyone?” Cat's voice is raw and hushed. The words are followed by a sob that is muffled by Ellie's shoulder. Ellie's panicking worsens tenfold because she doesn't understand what Cat means. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Cat, who's scaring you?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Cat shakes her head, still whimpering, and then Ellie realises. She tightens her arms and moves so her chin rests atop Cat's head, rocking the both of them slowly in the hopes to soothe Cat. “They won't. They don't know.” She says it slowly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Cat's still crying. “They might. We were–” She hiccups, “We were holding </span>
  <em>
    <span>hands. </span>
  </em>
  <span>They could've– They could've–” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“They </span>
  <em>
    <span>didn't</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” Ellie speaks firmly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You don't know, you don't–” Ellie squeezes her eyes shut at the unfiltered fear that is wrapped around every one of Cat's words. How can she make it stop? She doesn't know so she keeps rubbing her back and moving them rhythmically to and fro in the hopes that it works. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Cat, they don't know. Okay? They don't.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“But–” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Trust me, </span>
  <em>
    <span>please. </span>
  </em>
  <span>They don't know.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ellie's not religious or anything close to it, so when Cat nods and deflates, her breath slowing, she looks to the window and thanks the moon, the stars, the sky. Cat's settling now, curling into her for comfort; Ellie breathes out in shaky relief. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She knows that their situation had never been easy for Cat. It isn't easy for Ellie either. But Cat had always taken it harder: she loathed the secrecy and lived in dread and fear of somebody seeing something they shouldn't have. Ellie puts it down to how she was raised to believe that social status is everything, that anything out of the norm automatically constitutes the whole town shunning you. She's different now, of course, Cat knows that social hierarchy means little importance to them, but those deep-rooted ideas remain. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ellie's sure that it'll always be the same with them. This… repetition, of conversations they both agree to never have again, of arguments they both agree to never speak of again. She does it for Cat though, so really, it's always worth it. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>cat date me challenge.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. five</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>hello ! hope you're doing well, and if not i hope this chapter makes you feel a little better :) </p><p>it's a bit longer than usual, and it could've gone on but i just decided to split the chapter into two. </p><p>enjoy !</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>This time, Jesse stays to apologise. He doesn't leave roses in a half-attempt, instead he waits in the foyer, looking up at the twisting staircase. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The house is relatively cold, lacking in the cosy feeling that one might crave when in search of a home. He's never minded it, but now he's hyper aware of the fact. The walls are harsh white with wood panelling; Jesse recalls his mother standing over the builder-man as he fixed them to the wall. This house is his past, his present. He hopes it'll live to be his future. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His feet tap and jitter on the hard floors, and he can't shake the feeling that the thing he had once considered inviolable, had been shattered horribly. Even now, the night after their argument, he can't understand</span>
  <em>
    <span> why</span>
  </em>
  <span> exactly Dina had been so angry. He understands that they did not share similar views on a subject, but how can that amount to a shouting match like theirs? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He hears her coming. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He straightens, adjusting his tie, holding his breath. She turns the staircase and slowly descends without seeing him. The light pools halo-like on her soft looking hair and he aches for a week ago, before this mess of arguments. Regret pools in his stomach, she appears exhausted and </span>
  <em>
    <span>sad. </span>
  </em>
  <span>He coughs and she scowls at him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Jesse.” The word reverberates around the place. He nods, standing up. His apology is well rehearsed and heartfelt.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Dina, I apologise. The shouting was unnecessary, but it's expected for a relationship like ours. We've been in love so long, arguments are the norm,” His words stumble slightly; her face remains relatively expressionless. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I love you, and I don't want to lose you over a difference of opinion. So please, forgive me.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His voice dies away and they're left with nothing but the distant sounds of a maid whistling. For something he'd agonised over, it all feels rather pedestrian. His apology, to Dina at least, must seem lackluster. She's still staring at him. It may well be a glare. He's never been able to properly tell the difference. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The clock ticks on and then she nods, finally. He exhales, </span>
  <em>
    <span>thank God</span>
  </em>
  <span>, and then her face finally changes. Not to happiness, or even acceptance, but to an expression of sureness. As though she's made a decision. Jesse waits. She speaks. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I forgive you, Jesse. And I hope you'll accept my own apologies, the dramatics were simply… dramatics.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Of course, things are never that easy. “However, I saw a different side of you, and I've been seeing a different side of you, especially recently. It's not one I ever thought I'd have to see. So, I'm sure you'll understand if I suggest we take some distance.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She's lit a match on a bomb that explodes underneath him, and he stands shell-shocked in front of her. His voice rings about in his ears. “Distance?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“A few days apart, yes.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He understands and wishes he didn't, perhaps that way he might find a way to stay. She wants him </span>
  <em>
    <span>gone</span>
  </em>
  <span>, out of the house and </span>
  <em>
    <span>away. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It's his house. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her’s too, he supposes. No, he knows they share it. They're partners. But… where is he to go? He dreads the idea of leaving, especially without the guarantee he'll be allowed back. He looks up at her, and she smiles like she already knows what he's going to ask. He's sort of transfixed by the depressed upturn of her mouth. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“A few days means a few days, Jesse. Not forever.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>So he bids her goodbye, leaving the scene with his tail between his legs. Packing his bags is uneventful and mundane, and he exits the house without seeing her again. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Cold envelopes him, and welcomes him, and he slides into the backseat of the car with little hospitality towards the driver. He speaks forwardly. “Take me to the hotel on Main Street. I won't be going to work today.” </span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>The snap of the door closing behind Jesse seems to unfreeze her limbs; she quietly exits the bathroom. She hadn't been </span>
  <em>
    <span>hiding</span>
  </em>
  <span>, she'd just been waiting for him to leave. For his sake, of course. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her body is heavy as it seemingly drags itself through Jesse's townhouse, and she wouldn't be surprised if she looked up to see a black cloud floating overhead. The kitchen is mercifully free of maids and the likes, she breathes a sigh of relief. It's decorated tastefully, though she knows it was Jesse's mother's doing, not Jesse's. Her hand runs along the walnut countertops as she </span>
</p><p>
  <span>glides trance-like towards the pantry. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It's filled to the brim with chocolates and biscuits and candies, all in preparation for the holiday season. Dina looks around. They could live with a few chocolates missing, couldn't they?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She takes an entire box of caramels and a mason jar of cookies, keeping them tucked close to her body as she wallows in sadness on the loveseat. Every so often she reminds herself that there's no real hurt to be had: Jesse will return soon enough, and then they can carry on as normal. She's the one who sent him away. It's her fault, really. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She curses that thought. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Skillfully, she avoids the question that remains ever-present in her mind, </span>
  <em>
    <span>does she even want Jesse to come back? </span>
  </em>
  <span>She doesn't mean to the house of course. She means back into this relationship, back into her life. Dina's young, if she left now she could still have a different life. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She also curses that thought. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And then she reaches for another chocolate, but somehow there's none left. The stream of curses she lets out are horribly colourful, and then she casts the box to the floor, careless in the action. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It's a depressing sight, certainly. Hunched, curled, pressed right into the corner of the seat, nightclothes drawn tight around her body. The clock teases and taunts from where it's hung on the wall; it ticks past midday and then some. She ought to move, perhaps go for lunch with a friend, or at least get </span>
  <em>
    <span>dressed</span>
  </em>
  <span>, and yet she cannot summon any will to do anything. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She cannot summon the will to do anything, and when the doorbell rings she acts as though it hadn't. Somebody else can answer it. It rings again, the sound jarring to her bones. She stays unwavering in her decision: </span>
  <em>
    <span>someone else can get it. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Minutes pass and it rings a third time and she's had </span>
  <em>
    <span>enough, </span>
  </em>
  <span>her temper is thin and fast rising as she stalks towards the hall. Her appearance is momentarily forgotten, she yanks the front door open with a vengeance. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And then she curses out loud. “Fuck!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ellie Williams stares from the doorstep, hands folded behind her back, smiling in polite bemusement. “Dina.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Once, Dina’s sister had taken her to see a magic show. The magician had been entrancing, intricately confusing; he had made a real-life bird simply </span>
  <em>
    <span>disappear. </span>
  </em>
  <span>It’s incredible even to this day, Dina still hasn’t the faintest clue how the feat was achieved. She doesn’t usually wonder about it, the magic of magic is the unknowingness of it all. Now though she aches to know the magician’s secret, so perhaps she might be able to vanish into the air. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dina smiles through her embarrassment. Ellie, polite and friendly, pretends not to notice her burning red cheeks. “I apologise, I was not expecting visitors…” She trails off for a half second, “Can I help you with something?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ellie pulls her hands from her back to reveal a black tin, and she extends it to Dina. “This was for Jesse. We didn't get off on the right foot, and I know I can be rather standoffish. It's a peace offering.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The easy mentioning of Jesse makes Dina blanch. She thinks of his yelling, of his </span>
  <em>
    <span>hatred, </span>
  </em>
  <span>and she looks at Ellie's face that's washed over with freckles and good intentions. Ellie notices Dina's change of expression. “Do you not want a peace offering?” She seems confused. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No!” She speaks too abruptly and Ellie seems to hesitate; Dina takes a breath. “No, I'm sure he'd appreciate…” Her eyes fall to the tin in Ellie's hands. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It's coffee. Sourced from… um, somewhere expensive.” She does a less than grand way of explaining it and hands it over with a small smile, now-empty hands burying themselves into the pockets of her day-coat. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dina thanks her profusely. Guilt rises up in her chest and she shoves it down forcefully; she tells Ellie that Jesse will love it. To Ellie's credit though, she seems disbelieving and tilts her head in a manner Dina would consider secretive. “I expect… he will not like it. At all. He'll probably despise it.” Ellie shares this thought with a grin. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why get it for him then?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The look that comes over Ellie's face is delightfully mischievous and Dina finds herself smiling for the answer not said. She forgets, for a second, her sadness and crushing loneliness: she stares up into Ellie's shining face. The single second of forgetfulness is enough for a hundred terrible ideas to seize her, she smiles widely. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Say, Ellie. I'm in the mood for an </span>
  <em>
    <span>adventure.</span>
  </em>
  <span>” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Something tells her that Ellie might have the same ideas because her green eyes twinkle like sunlight on rain-streaked glass, she shrugs. “I may well be in the same mood.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We could go together.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A laugh escapes Ellie's lips, a kind of chuckle that's in line with the quiet amusement that seems to so often overtake Ellie. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kindly, Ellie offers to wait outside whilst Dina goes back to get dressed, and so when Dina returns from her bedroom she's surprised to see Ellie's lanky figure standing awkwardly in the entrance hall. She's nodding along to something a maid says, and upon a closer look Dina realises it's Darcy, talking a mile a minute. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She looks hopelessly lost and relief flashes over her face at the sight of Dina. Darcy turns and she's smiling conspiratorially as though she's well aware of how absolutely overwhelmed Ellie is and Dina frowns through her amusement. “Leave her be, Darcy, she looks as if she's about to take ill.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ellie turns red and then they leave, straight out of the door with a purpose not backed up by any rational thought. Neither of them have a clue where they are going, and yet neither of them say anything about it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Overhead is an expanse of blue that seems too bright for how cold it is; Dina wishes she'd worn a scarf. Their feet aren't in sync on the path, so the sound of boots scuffing on melting snow is more of a constant than anything else. The air between them is empty. She clears her throat. “If I wanted to walk in silence I would have come on my own,” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The sound of foot scraping on stone has her glancing sideways, Ellie rights herself in time to throw a nonchalant smile. “I’ve simply been waiting for you to start  the conversation.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I haven’t much to talk about.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>This surprises Ellie; Dina wonders why. Even on the surface her life is mundane for someone in her position, it revolves around Jesse with the occasional party. Ellie shrugs, still eyeing Dina with doubtful eyes, as if Dina would for some reason </span>
  <em>
    <span>lie </span>
  </em>
  <span>about having nothing to do and nothing to say. “Well then, I could tell you about this book I’ve been reading. It’s quite interesting.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dina frowns, wary at the tone of Ellie’s voice. “Go on.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Astronomy. Space, and the stars. The stars are gas, and they burn bright enough that we see them from here. Can you imagine… being close to a star? You can’t, and you never could because unfortunately you would be dead. Burned up into ashes.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dina stifles a laugh. Of all the possible topics it’s almost fitting that Ellie should choose this one; it’s strangeness seems appropriate, Dina would say that she quite likes it. Ellie’s stopped speaking. Her hands flutter on the air at her sides, waiting, waiting. Dina pushes her arm slightly, “Carry on! You cannot simply tell me that I would be dead and then end the conversation. You must know more.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Of course I know more—” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Really?” Dina teases, and Ellie glances sidewards, grinning. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes, I do know more. Like how every star we see at night is bigger and brighter than the sun. The least bright one is called the Alpha Centauri, and that is still probably double the brightness of the sun. Positively blinding.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And the constellations! Oh, they’re wonderful, honestly. I’ve tried to see a few from here, but I think I lack most of the required skill for star-gazing. But there’s so many to see, Aquarius, Canis Major, the Cassiopeia. So many.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It's a lot of information, and Ellie likes to talk with her hands. Strange gestures and movements obviously meant to help Dina's understanding, when really they only distract her, intrigue her; most people she knows talk with their hands firmly at their sides. It's interesting. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s my favourite, the Cassiopeia. If you were to see it side-on then it would look a bit like an ‘E’.  It’s named after a Greek Mythological queen. They portrayed her as awfully vain, and said that she thought her daughter to be the most beautiful woman ever, which I personally don’t see a problem with. That’s not to say I don’t think she was vain though. It was one of the forty-eight constellations found by Ptolemy, the Greek astronomer.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They're a ways out from the townhouse now, she stops and Ellie walks a few more steps before stopping too. Dina thinks of earlier, her own sorry form curled away from the window in the chair, and then she thinks of </span>
  <em>
    <span>now</span>
  </em>
  <span>, the bizarre circumstance of listening to Ellie Williams talking about astronomy and Greek Mythology and truly enjoying herself. She smiles, albeit slightly trance-like. Ellie's mouth turns upwards in response. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That </span>
  <em>
    <span>was </span>
  </em>
  <span>quite interesting. And odd. How do you even come across a book that teaches that? I would’ve thought that they keep Astronomy books for the Astronomers only.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ellie shrugs and folds her hands into her pockets; </span>
  <em>
    <span>another </span>
  </em>
  <span>strange thing that Dina's noticed. Not strange, </span>
  <em>
    <span>interesting. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Ellie seems to spend her life wearing shirts and trousers and jackets– well made clothes, of course –but Dina would never dare to do the same. She'd be a social outcast, she'd be </span>
  <em>
    <span>burned up into ashes.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Figuratively, of course. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The town library. Joel's library. Cat has a few arbitrary books that she keeps as a personal collection, and we share similar tastes in literature.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dina chooses not to mention that in all of her life in Jackson, she has never visited the town library. If she also chooses not to comment on the casual mention of Cat, it's her own business. “That's…” She trails off, blushing red (on account of  the ice-wind, obviously), and searches for a new topic of discussion.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ellie has wandered a few paces, off to the side of the path where the bushes seem to stretch out and make way for a small opening. She reaches an arm through, then a foot; Ellie turns back in apparent triumph. “I’ve found it.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dina blinks. “Pardon?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A rustle of Ellie’s coat, the crunching of snow, Dina’s reflexive squeak: then Dina’s standing remarkably close to Ellie. Ellie’s hand is on her arm. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’ve found our adventure.” </span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>The ring is a golden band, it’s engravings are a simple elegance to behold. It was his mother’s, her mother’s before, and so on. Now, it sits deep in Jesse’s trouser pocket, burning a hole to his skin. It feels heavy and uncomfortable there, pressing awkwardly. He shifts, too warm, too fiddly, striding up the stone path toward the door. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The wind blows his long hair into a mess; Dina had been the one to cut it last, a while ago. He runs a hand through it, pushing it into something that would masquerade as put-together. Jesse stills, a few feet from the front door. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s painted deep green, his hand seems pale with nerves as he reaches to knock. He waits. Of course he’s rehearsed his lines, everything must be perfect. This has to go well, or else he’ll be lost for what to do. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A vaguely familiar servant greets him with a smile, muttering pleasantries and ushering him inside and out of the cold. “Mr Ikeda sir, wonderful to see you. May I take your coat?” Jesse shakes his head, self consciously straightening his collar. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“There’ll be no need for that, thank you. I’m sure you’ve guessed that I’m here to see Lady Abel? It’s rather urgent.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The servant nods enthusiastically. “Of course sir, I’ll inform her of your arrival at once.” Jesse watches him hurry off, and turns further into the parlour. He resists the urge to pace back and forth. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The ring presses further into his leg, laughing at him, taunting him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lady Abel arrives in a swirl of red skirts and dark hair, almost ten minutes later. She smiles at him like one might smile at a son, and seconds later her arms are around him. He embraces her briefly and lets her go, ease creeping into his body. “Lady Abel.” He inclines his head in greeting. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Jesse. How long it’s been since you’ve visited.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I apologise, work–“ </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She waves him off and they walk together towards a set of armchairs that rest in between the imperial staircase. They sit, she speaks, “Nevermind that. I’ve been told this matter is urgent? And seeing that my Dina has not accompanied you on this visit, I can imagine what you may want to discuss.” She twinkles at him, smile-lined cheeks creasing further with happiness. After a few seconds, he nods haltingly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes. I’m here to… ask for your blessing. So that I may ask for your daughter’s, my love’s, hand in marriage.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When she doesn’t answer immediately, he panics. Internally, of course, though it may show in the tapping of his foot on the marble floor. Her face remains impassive, fixed on him, he squirms. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Jesse…” She starts, he waits. “Jesse I want you to know something, and to understand it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s not what he’d been expecting, though he nods anyway. “Marriage, it doesn’t suddenly fix all of a relationship’s problems. It’s more… it’s more complicated than that.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jaw falling, he rushes to stammer, “Lady Abel I </span>
  <em>
    <span>assure </span>
  </em>
  <span>you that there are no–“ </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Jesse. </span>
  </em>
  <span>I’m simply allowing this knowledge to come to you. I know my daughter, and I dare say I know you. You have my blessing, always. I wish you two a happy marriage, for all I’ve ever wanted for Dina is a secure, love-filled life. Her happiness.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>In that moment, he could cry. He will not, but he could. For it’s all he wants too, her happiness, and her security. He provides it for her, does he not? He loves her, and she loves him. She makes him happier than he has ever been. Dina might be considered as his wings, as though he were truly flying when she was with him, smiling at him. Thoughts of a wedding, of children with her blinding smile, of an eternity together: he could quite easily cry. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He will not, though he could. </span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Later, he takes to the Gentleman’s Lunch Club that most of the upper-classes men in Jackson frequent. Personally he doesn’t care for it, except for when he’s looking for his friends. Like now, as he  pushes the heavy door open and steps inside the dim room with the wind at his back. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s a facade of elegance here, Jesse’s sure it used to be a back-alley bar. Wooden tables and lamps with heavy shades haphazardly placed over the slightly uneven floorboards. Men in black jackets and hats flood the place, deep laughter echoes around the walls and windows. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He’s barely stepped inside when he’s called out to. “Jesse! Look who finally decided that we were worthy of a visit!” It’s one of his best friends, Thomas Barley, grinning widely enough that his smile could wrap around his face twice. Jesse makes his way over quickly, shaking the man’s hand firmly before dropping into a seat. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Barely, I apologise for the infrequency of our meetings. You’re well, I hope?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Barley just nods as he pours out a drink for Jesse from a bottle that had already been sitting on the marked tabletop. “I’m great, as are you, judging by that poorly-concealed smirk. Out with it then, what’s got you so happy? Bit of action in the bedroom?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jesse breathes out a laugh and claps Barley's arm. “No. I’ve just gotten Lady Abel’s blessing for Dina’s hand in marriage.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Barley is a married man already, and has been for almost two years now. Jesse remembers his wedding night vividly, lots of drinking, lots of dancing. He’d enjoyed it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Barley's eyes widen and he leans his head back and cheers out, “Jesse’s off to be married, get a load of it! Took the boy long enough!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The club laughs and whoops as one before the moment passes, and Jesse is left red-cheeked staring at Barley’s face. It really has been long since they'd seen each other. Faint wrinkles line Barley's dark forehead, and his curly hair is shorter, thinner. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thank you, Barley. I have to ask, is married life better? Or has it added… distance?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Something changes in Barley's demeanor. He leans closer, confusion marring his strong features. “What do you mean?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Has marriage added distance between yourself and your wife?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Barley smiles, still in confusion. “We never were close anyway. You know that though. We discussed it the night of the wedding.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The night of the wedding when he'd drank so much he could barely walk. Jesse recalls without remembering. Their surroundings seem to melt away as Jesse explains and adds, “I don't for the life of me know what you're referring to.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Barley raises his eyebrows conspiratorially. “You're not to go blabbing, okay?” Jesse nods, hesitant. “You're one of my oldest friends and so I trust in you. Me and Danielle, we have an arrangement. She has her preference, and I have mine. We may live together, we may be technically married, but she is to see whomever she likes and I the same. It's best… to avoid the whispers that would surely follow us if we were truthful.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dumbfounded, Jesse feels a beat slower than Barely when he asks, “Truthful about what?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That I myself am partial to the gentlemen– the ones who are like me of course –and that she is partial to the women.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jesse goes to his hotel, soon after that. His mind spins. His closest friend… he… Jesse doesn't feel right. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He feels strange, as though he's just won a swimming race and then has started to drown before he exits the water. He thinks of Dina, of their hopefully soon to be engagement. He thinks of Barley and his wife, and their </span>
  <em>
    <span>arrangement. </span>
  </em>
  <span>He thinks of Ellie Williams, and her sharp eyes softening at the sight of her friend. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>If he doesn't sleep at all that night, he keeps it to himself. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>i actually know nothing about space im so sorry if everything ellie said was factually incorrect. </p><p>i hope you enjoyed, (especially the ellie and dina interaction), and if you did let me know in the comments ! or if you don't want to do that then that's cool too !</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>i love old fashioned speaking and old fashioned style and i just love everything about it. a lot of this world-building is very made up and probably not factually correct so i apologise for that. </p><p>expect the next chapter in a few days, and you can find me on tumblr by the same url if you want to 🍉</p><p>if you liked it and feel like leaving a comment, please leave one! they literally always make my day ✨</p></blockquote></div></div>
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